


Only the Young

by Lola1b



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, lots of feels, three way, very shaky science slash magic thing going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola1b/pseuds/Lola1b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We don't know how it happened,” Tony said, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at Steve. “But she's back. She remembers everything. She asked for you.”</p>
<p>	Steve is either really lucky, or horribly cursed. He loved Peggy. When she appeared, completely unexpectedly, at the Avenger's Tower through some magical means, he was overwhelmed with joy and love for her. There was only one problem; he had already promised himself to Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Damsel Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by music, hence the cheesy lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.  
> This will be a multi-chap fic, so please stay tuned! It's not part of my Stucky series, but you can easily consider this to be the same universe, minus the marriage announcement.
> 
> Please enjoy!

1\. Damsel Dark

 

“ _There is a Tavern in the town, in the town_

_And there my true love sits him down, sits him down...”_

_*_

“ _He left me for a damsel dark, damsel dark_

_Each Friday night they used to spark, used to spark...”_

_(-There is a Tavern in the Town)_

 

 

Steve rushed down the hall, his steps alternating between a fast walk and a light jog. Tony's words kept running through his mind, on an endless loop. _You gotta come in, Steve. It's about Peggy._

She's been buried for about a year. During that time, Steve had become a traitor, had gotten Bucky back, had confessed to Bucky, had ran off to Wakanda, had come back home, and had become a hero, all over again. During that time, he went to visit her grave only once. If it had been in America he'd go every month, every week. But life got in the way. Sometimes he called Sharon and she'd tell him about someone new who came with stories of Aunt Peggy. He missed so many things. Who he knew was a woman in her 20s, a woman who was still not the legend all the world knew. He knew nothing but a few short years, a few moments from the great reel of the life of Margaret Carter. The history books, the few personal items Sharon sent him, the stories of people who had known her when she was older, a married woman, an aunt, a retired legend; he soaked all those things up, like little rays of sunlight on his sun-starved skin. Even when Bucky was with him, when he was safe and happy with his childhood friend who was now the most important thing to him in his life, he still thought of her.

_You gotta come in, Steve. It's about Peggy._ It still rang in his head. He needed no explanation. Whatever it was, whether Tony found a scrap of information about her, or an old picture, or a grand secret; no matter what, he'd take it.

He pushed open the med-bay doors. His brain didn't notice. His brain didn't think to wonder why Tony asked him to come here, and not to his lab, or the common room, or anywhere else logical.

It wasn't until he was standing inside, the doctors moving around him, the medical equipment beeping, that he stopped. For a second he worried that either he or Tony had confused Peggy with Sharon, that she was hurt. He approached the thick, matte curtains that parted the first room from the examination area. He heard Tony's voice behind the thick plastic. A laughter rose from within, something feminine and light, with a tinge of depth to it that immediately pulled at the cords of Steve's heart. It skipped a beat. He parted the curtain. He stepped inside.

He was sure his heart had stopped for good and would never beat again.

Peggy was sitting on the table in a hospital gown, her brown hair tumbling down in wavy locks around her shoulders. She wore no make-up. He had never seen her like this. She looked so approachable, simple in the best of ways, and so human – yet at the same time she was like a ghost, like an illusion come to life before his eyes. Like Wanda's magic, that made him think, for a moment, that he had kept his promise and had that one dance with Peggy.

Tony was standing with his hands in the pockets of one of his more casual suits. He was staring back at Steve with a smirk, something amusing sparkling in his eyes.

“Well, Miss Carter – Or Mrs. I keep forgetting you got married!”

“He's awe-struck,” someone said with a chuckle.

Steve turned his head a small increment and glanced at Rhodes, who was standing, grinning, in his military fatigues near the curtain. Steve must have passed him without noticing. He looked back to Peggy. She was still there. She was staring back at him. Her chest rose in long, deep breaths. Her lips were parted, turned up at the corners just the slightest bit. Her eyes were red, and her face contorted in lines that foretold the tears that quickly began to spill over her cheeks.

“Steve,” she said quietly, her voice wavering. She closed her mouth and smiled. Her head tilted. She reminded him, for a slight moment, of a picture Sharon showed him once, where Peggy was a proper Great Aunt, gray and noble. She had her head turned, her lips smiling, teaching little Sharon something or other. That gentle look was the same. But Peggy was young. She was not a still picture. She was not an illusion. When she rose from the table, the thin mattress underneath lifted up in the absence of the weight. When she stepped forward, her feet made a sound.

She approached slowly, her hands at her side, her shoulders raised as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“It's me,” she said in the same quiet, wavering voice. “I don't know how,” she continued, her feet stopping right in front of him. He could smell her hair. He could see where her eyelashes stuck to each other from the moisture of her tears.

Steve let out a breath, a whine or cry, that surprised him by its loudness. He reached out, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. They were solid under his palms. They were warm. When he touched Peggy's hand in that sick room, where she lay until her death, her hand was always cold. Her warm hand touched his now, and she let out a cry of her own and fell into his open arms. He wrapped his hands around her, his fingers digging through her thick hair, tangling in the strands and letting loose the smell of it all around him.

He heard footsteps behind him.

“Oh god. It's true,” he heard someone say. He could barely hear them, but the familiar tone made him glance in that direction for a moment.

It was Bucky. He was staring with wide eyes. Beside him was Natasha, her forehead wrinkled in utter shock and confusion.

He felt Peggy shift in his arms, saw her peek her face over his arm to look at Bucky.

“Oh, god, Barnes. Yes, it's me. It's you,” she said, her eyes bursting forth with new, happy tears. She didn't know he had found Bucky before she passed away. How could she have known? She reached out her hand to him, and he took it hesitantly. She tightened her grip around Steve's middle and squeezed Bucky's hand. “I'm back.”

 

* * *

 

“We don't know how it happened,” Tony said, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at Steve. “But she's back. She remembers everything. She asked for _you.”_

Steve continued to stare at the matte curtains. She was behind them, being checked by the doctors again. There was some sort of residue on her skin, something that might lead to an answer on how she got here.

“Last thing she remembered, she was in her room, watching some day time TV. Then she's in the middle of an explosion, in a crater, in her burial clothes. Completely unharmed.”

“That's impossible,” Steve said quietly.

“Yeah, that's what we thought. But if we can get enough of this material...” Tony paused and waved at someone in the doorway. Steve didn't turn. He could just barely see the brown blur behind the curtains that was Peggy.

“Rhodes is going back there,” Tony said, speaking to the new-comer.

“He should make sure no one contaminates the site,” Steve heard Bruce say. A moment later, his ears picked up Bruce's quiet voice, asking if Steve was alright.

“I'm fine,” Steve said, turning to them, finally breaking away from staring at the examination room. His eyes glossed over Bruce, then landed on Bucky.

He paused. He hadn't realized Bucky was still there. He was leaning on the wall, watching Steve. There was something guarded and unreadable in his face.

“Anyway, once we get enough of that crap to analyze it, who knows? She's been exposed to a lot of things over the years,” Tony continued. “Maybe something stayed with her... triggered this.”

Steve nodded, not listening anymore. He walked up to Bucky.

Bucky quickly looked away and adjusted himself against the wall.

“You must be happy,” he grumbled, his eyes looking everywhere but at Steve, even when he tried to move into his field of view.

Steve heard Bruce and Tony stop all conversation and silently move out of the room. It was quiet, except for the muffled sounds of the doctors asking Peggy questions in the next room, and the constant beeping and whirl of the machines.

“Aren't you? You were friends, too.”

Bucky shrugged. “'Course I'm happy, Steve. One friend I haven't disappointed yet.”

Steve knew there was more to it. He knew Bucky was happy to have her back. He saw the joy in his face, when after she let go of Steve, she spent a full minute asking Bucky how he was, how it was that he was alive, how it could have happened that she didn't know, that no one told her, even old as she was. He didn't tell her about the Winter Soldier or Hydra, but it was nice seeing them interact. It was nice to see her be genuinely worried about him and be happy to see him, and for him to feel that connection with someone other than Steve.

It took Steve a long moment to realize why Bucky was refusing to look at him now, why he stood with his arms crossed in the corner like he was an intruder.

“Bucky you don't – you don't think I'm going to...”

Bucky shrugged again. He swallowed thickly, licked his lips. His eyes drew towards his feet. “Leave me? Well, I wouldn't blame you. The love of your life is back.”

Steve felt the air leave his lungs. He stared at him for a long moment. Bucky looked up when he didn't say anything. His brows drew together, and then a defiant look settled over his face.

“God, it's true. You're leaving me.”

“No!” Steve reached out and grabbed Bucky by both of his arms. “Of course not! Bucky, I love you.”

“Yeah? Only cause you didn't have her. I was just the second best thing, wasn't I? Like before the war.”

Steve shook his head, his teeth gritting together. He was so incredibly _angry._ He shook with it, uncontrollably and with barely a thought to who might hear or see him like this.

“I love _you_. I meant everything that happened between us. So don't you try to tell me how I feel!”

Bucky swallowed again. He looked up him sheepishly, his cheeks flushed.

“Then... you're not leaving me?”

Steve shook his head. “Of course not.” He pulled Bucky into a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple.

He felt Bucky go stiff. He pulled back slightly. Bucky was looking straight ahead.

Peggy was wearing black pants and a dark blue blouse. Her hair was brushed, her lips painted red. She had black flats on. Behind her, Maria Hill stood with a stone cold expression.

“Captain, Miss Carter has been cleared. I hope it's alright if I find her a room for the night and show her around. I'm sure you and Tony have a lot to talk about.”

Peggy looked back at Maria with a slight frown. “They can't show me around?”

“Your arrival here was a complete unknown. They have to quarantine the area, speak with the Secretary –“

“We'll show her around, Maria. Thank you.”

Maria sighed low in her chest and nodded. “I'll speak with Tony then. I'll let you know later what's been decided.”

Steve nodded. Peggy smiled. It didn't completely reach her eyes. There was a strain there as she looked at them. Steve realized he was still hugging Bucky; closely, his fingers wound in his hair. It was clearly not a platonic touch.

He jumped away from Bucky almost immediately. It felt wrong, somehow. He felt his cheeks and ears color, as if his mother had found him misbehaving or cheating at something. Bucky stared after him. Then he glanced at Peggy.

“Good to have you back, Peg. See you around.” He quickly ducked out the door. Peggy stepped forward, as if she meant to go after him. But she didn't. She stood and waited until Steve looked up at her.

He fumbled with his hands, looking for some sort of excuse. But the look in her eyes stopped him. She smiled. There was understanding and compassion in those eyes. He sighed and smiled. Then he reached out, offered her his arm. “I'll show you the best view of New York there is. It's changed so much.”

“As have we all,” she said, patting his arm with her other hand.

 

* * *

 

He showed her the gym, the home theater, the common room. He watched as she explored the kitchen, studying the coffee machine, figuring out the ordering menu on the fridge.

“You mean to tell me that if I would like some eggs, I simply find them on this screen and they will appear?”

Steve laughed. “Not exactly. It's grocery shopping, without having to go to the store. Everything gets stocked the next day.”

Peggy raised her brows and gave the menu one more look. “You know they never implemented this technology at the place I was... living at. They thought we were too old to understand,” she said, her voice light as her eyes raked over the technology. “But I rather like going to the store. You never know what you might encounter, or whom you may meet there.”

Steve looked down and put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well, there's many good things about the future, but there's some bad, too. You're not really going to meet a neighbor in the local Walmart.”

“Ah. It has been too long since I've... Did you know the last time I had shopped for myself was twenty years ago?”

Steve blinked at her.

“Daniel's nephew had a big house and the two of us lived there until... well, until Daniel was no longer there and I began to get sick.” She walked towards him, paused, then smiled again. “I was adamant about not going to some facility. I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I thought. Until I forgot that I had started to reheat soup and it spilled over and burned the whole stove. I was so embarrassed.”

Steve smiled and offered her his arm again. “You were –“

“Old?”

“Advanced in age,” Steve offered with a grin as he led her forward.

Peggy laughed. “I was old, Steve. And my mind began to go. I had high hopes, you know? Daniel got sick first. I thought moving in with his nephew would be the best for both of us. Without having to worry about the lawn or groceries, I could focus on taking care of him. He was always so self-sufficient, even when his limp got worse. He would have hated being placed in a home.”

“I'm sorry that you were.”

“Oh,” she chuckled and shrugged. “Don't be. How many times did you come to visit me and I thought it was the first time?”

“Quite a few,” Steve admitted.

“I needed the help. Like you said, I was _advanced_ in age. They took good care of me there.”

They stopped in front of the large windows in the common room. Peggy took a deep breath, her eyes widening at the sight of New York City.

“It had changed, hadn't it? I have never fully explored New York as it is today. For years, I was too busy, or too frail. I had seen it on TV so many times. I thought, I had walked these streets, when they were different, when they didn't shine so bright. Was it strange for you?” She turned to him, the intensity of her eyes rooting him to the ground.

“What was?”

She laughed, her eyes darting to the landscape again. “The city. Seeing it. For me, the change was gradual. It must have been a shock for you.”

He smiled and leaned his arm on the window. “It took me a while. I had a notebook full of notes. I used to dress like everyone's grandpa before Shield stepped in and got me a new wardrobe.”

“Well, I'm sure you still managed to turn heads, even dressed as someone's grandfather.”

Steve felt his cheeks color again. Bucky's face popped into his mind. He pushed away from the window and motioned at the door.

“Uh, library next?”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You don't have to worry.”

He stopped and stared at her. She smiled sadly.

“I know. I heard you talking with Barnes.”

Steve closed his eyes. “Peggy...”

“I lived a full life,” she said. He opened his eyes. “I had Daniel.” Her lips spread into a wide grin, old memories flooding her sparkling eyes. “I loved him. You know, people always said that I couldn't. How could I have traded the shield for a crutch? But I did.”

Steve knew about her husband. He read about what kind of man he was, what kind of work he did. He seemed decent. Occasionally, Sharon's stories would mention Uncle Dan. He felt a pang of hurt – that he wasn't hers, that some other man had been with her, that some other man had been her groom and had seen her walk down the aisle – and at the same time, the highest relief. Peggy had a good life. She had a good husband, accomplished more than most women in her time, more than most men _today._ She hadn't fallen into despair. She rose above it and became a legend. He couldn't wish more for her.

She reached out to take his hand, smiling warmly, patiently.

“I love you, Steve. I had always loved you.” Her eyes shimmered and she smiled again. “But I will not come between you two. I want you both to know that. I – I am not... I had a full life. It is time you both live yours. You were denied that.”

Steve squeezed her hand tightly. She smiled and gently pulled her hand out, then looked back at the city.

“I had a good life,” she repeated again, quietly, almost to herself. “I accomplished all that I wished. I wanted to be recognized. I was, by the SSR, by my husband, by the world at large. Tony told me about the funeral. I'm sorry you had to see it. He told me Sharon recited my speech to you. He blamed me, you know, for you being so stubborn. Whatever that mean,” she said, grinning. “But I'm proud of it, if it's true.”

He looked down and swallowed the lump in his throat. It felt wrong for her to give him and Bucky her blessing. He couldn't shake the feeling of it all being wrong. But she kept talking, her voice light and gentle.

“Daniel and I never had children.”

He looked up at her. She turned and went over to the white couch that faced the city. He followed her and sat down on the other end. He watched her settle into the white cushions. Her face was calm. She was dark against the white fabric, a solid ghost of a past that both haunted him and cleansed him spiritually. He got to say his peace to Bucky. He felt he never quite got to do that with her. She always forgot that he was back... or she'd look like she was far away, and not understanding what he had said. Sometimes, there would be clarity in her eyes. And then she'd forget again.

“Sharon was the closest thing. I cannot wait to see her. Tony told me he called her even before he called you.”

Steve forced a smile. “You two are family.”

“And we aren't?” she asked, looking at him. “You, I, and Barnes? Tony, too. I miss Howard. But I am glad that you and Sharon, and Tony, know each other.”

“She spied on me, you know,” Steve told her, some amusement filling his words.

“Oh, did she?” Peggy shook her head. “I knew she was doing something secretive, but I hoped she'd tell me something like _that_!”

Steve laughed. “Well, she didn't tell me you were her Great Aunt until...”

They were quiet for a long moment.

“I'm glad you and Barnes have each other,” she said softly.

“Peggy...”

“It's just that,” her voice rose, “I feel like I've been given a chance at life again. For however long this lasts, I am here. There is so much freedom in this. Yet I feel lost. I already accomplished what I wanted to as a young girl. I was married. I helped create Shield. I lived. When my mind began to go, I was ready to go, too.” She paused and smiled sadly at him. “Don't look so sad. You'll understand when you live to... oh, I suppose you'll need to live until you're a hundred and eighty to understand!”

He laughed again, this time from pure amusement. If he didn't die in a fight, he probably would live to be a hundred and eighty. He was already nearly a hundred now. He leaned forward, his face relaxing into an easy smile. “And here I thought I'd be the only hundred-something around who still could run laps. Now there's three of us.”

He looked back at her. An idea struck him. “You know, the fight isn't over.”

She looked at him in confusion.

“I mean, I don't want to alarm you, but Hydra cells still operate. And when it's not Hydra, it's someone else.”

“Steve,” she said, smiling, “I gave up that sort of life. You can't always be at war.” She said it with all the patience of the older, mature woman she truly was, even if her exterior was beautiful and young. He understood then that she wasn't truly like him and Bucky.

“Then... then you could join a political group. I've been trying to get more involved myself. Did you know that women still don't have equal pay?”

She huffed. “And here I thought, when I died, women would never have to suffer the indignity I did as a young woman. I suppose that was asking too much?”

“Imagine Peggy Carter at the head of a new feminist movement,” he said excitedly, rising from his seat. “Peggy, you could really change things. We're not at war anymore, but there's plenty of fights out there.”

She looked up at him with her dark eyes and her lips curled into a smile. “Are you telling me, Mr. Rogers, that I should gather scrap and sell war-bonds?”  
He laughed and put his hands on his hips. “The day I suggest that, Peggy, you have my permission to actually shoot me.”

“I don't know if there's anything this old woman can teach the new generation of feminists. My experience is so different from theirs. Their fights will be different than what mine were.”

“You need to find a cause, something to get you up in the morning.”

She crossed her legs, swinging her foot gently. “Is that what you do?”

“What I did,” he admitted. “Before I found my new home, my friends, Bucky... I devoted myself entirely to Shield and continuing the good fight.”

“Is that what I should do?” she asked, her voice thin. “Find a new home?”

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, silently grasping at words. “No, I didn't mean – Peggy, you can stay here. You should stay here. I just... No matter what, you know that I care about you, don't you? I love–“

“ – Don't tell me you love me,” she interrupted, her voice strong, through breaking at the last word. She rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around herself. She walked past him, toward the windows again. “Don't say those words to me.”

He closed his mouth, his eyes following her elegant, dark figure. It cut against the brightness of the city, a silhouette he thought he'd never see again; living flesh that he had seen buried and gone.

“Not when you can't be with me.”

For a long moment, only the sounds of the city interrupted the silence.

He heard soft footsteps behind them. The intruder cleared his throat. Steve turned to see Bucky. Bucky looked between Steve and Peggy, his mouth open. Then he closed it and gave Steve a quick nod. “Answer your phone when people call you. Tony needs you.” He quickly turned and walked back the way he came.

“Go,” Peggy said, her back still turned to Steve. “I'll be here until someone comes to collect me.”

Steve hesitated. He debated between walking behind her and wrapping his arms around her, and going after Bucky.

In the end, he turned and headed straight for Tony's lab.

 

 


	2. The Other Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late. I had quite a busy week, was even bedridden for half a day :) fun. I'm honestly not sure how much I should expand this fic. I could go very long with this. I could go very short. Originally it was going to be around 3-4 chapters. But the more I think about the idea, the more I worry I can't do it justice, and so I keep tacking on more chapters, hoping with more space I write it better :| guess only you guys can be the judge of whether it's working!

2

The Other Woman

 

“The other woman has time to manicure her nails

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails

And she's never seen with pin curls in her hair, anywhere.”

(-The Other Woman, Lana Del Rey cover)

 

Bucky headed straight for his and Steve's room. His old bedroom wasn't too far from their shared one, and he grabbed a few day's worth of clothes and a few personal items and took them to his old room. He spent the next hour making the bed, rearranging the furniture, and making himself at home again.

When he was done, he put his hands on his hips, surveyed his room, and let out a long, deflating sigh. The frenzy that had seized him to do this had faded, and he felt like he made a giant mistake.

If he leaves Steve's bed, will he next find Peggy in it? His heart clenched at the thought. But he couldn't blame her. She was first. No, _no,_ _he was_. But she had her perfectly manicured fingers around Steve's heart first.

He kicked his discarded sneakers in a sudden fit of rage and they projected straight into his desk, knocking over his lamp and his notebooks with a loud crash. He cursed and went to straighten his belongings. He paused when he heard voices. Two feminine voices. He slowly rose and went to the door. He cracked it open just an inch. He saw straight blond hair swing, a blue vest, a holster on a thigh. He opened the door a little wider and watched.

Sharon noticed him first and smiled at him. It was strained and her eyes seemed distant. She knew. Of course she knew there would be an issue. None of the Avengers were going to pretend this wasn't an issue. _Of course_ it was an issue.

He nodded at her gently in greeting, his jaw set tight, his eyes guarded. He felt like a caged animal all over again. His one certainty – that Steve loved him above all – had crumbled away and he was a wild animal in a cage again. Peggy turned around when she saw Sharon looking in his direction and gave him a giant smile; polite, beautiful. _Perfect_. She was perfect for him. She was too perfect. He hated her.

“Sergeant Barnes. This is – it's your room?”

As opposed to his and Steve's room, she likely meant. He grit his teeth. He nodded. He looked at the next door over. “That's Steve's.”

“I'm finishing her tour,” Sharon said with a small sigh. “Since Steve had to run out.”

“I hope it's nothing serious,” Peggy said. “I wouldn't want to celebrate if whatever brought me here turned out to be dangerous.”

“I'm sure it's not that, Aunt Peggy,” Sharon said. “Here, I think your room might be down that way.” She pointed down a long hall. Bucky knew there were mostly guest rooms there, rooms that Sharon, Maria, and other friends but not Avengers used when they had to stay at the tower. Bucky came out of his room and followed them, slowly, quietly, and the two women pretended as if he wasn't stalking them down the hall like an absolute creep. Sharon led her down the hall, as far from where Bucky and Steve were as possible without leaving the private quarters of the tower.

“Wait,” Bucky said. The two women stopped and turned to him expectantly. “Shouldn't you be closer to us? What if you need something?”  
“I know how to use a phone, Mr. Barnes. I've even used a cellphone a couple of times, though my old fingers had a hard time with the touchscreen,” Peggy said with a small smile, as if she was gently reminding him of something completely obvious. He kept forgetting that she wasn't completely out of time the way he and Steve were. She was whole the way he and Steve were not. She was steady. He had this over her. She wouldn't understand. She could anchor Steve, true. But no one, _no one_ , would ever understand him the way Bucky did.

They were still waiting for a response. Peggy was slowly forming a crease in her brow. Sharon was patient. She knew his brain sometimes went on tangents. She understood. No one had told Peggy yet. There was an aloofness to her entire demeanor, though, to the way she held herself strong and proud. He couldn't stop simply staring at her. He couldn't stop thinking of how she looked in the medical bay, how she, who was not a known hugger, fell into Steve's arms and nearly pulled Bucky into the embrace, too. She was so vulnerable there, so raw, a _mess._ It was comforting to see her break. Steve would always be kind to the broken. But Steve needed someone strong, someone _whole_. Bucky wasn't that. And Bucky was barely holding himself together. He still had nightmares. It had become such a common thing that when he awoke, screaming, Steve no longer panicked. Now he simply sat up with him, rubbed his back with one hand and his tired eyes with the other, until Bucky calmed down and Steve pulled him back down under the blankets. Bucky had thought that was good at first... But now he wondered if Steve didn't regret being saddled with him. Peggy would be better for him.

Peggy was so _perfect_. It was stupid, of course, because no one is perfect. Peggy wasn't either, of course. She was a little plumb – though both he and Steve enjoyed that in a woman – and she had a few quirks that kept her from the realm of goddess-like beauty. He'd go as far as to say Natasha was prettier. She certainly had a better waist to hip ratio... But Peggy was well put together. And not just in her red lipstick, in her perfectly curling hair, in her perfect gait even in heels. Even when she was breaking apart, she was strong and firm. And even when she hurt, she was kind. There was a genuine quality to her that was absent from Natasha. Natasha was cold – a friend he trusted, yes – but she was unapproachable the way Peggy was. No matter how much Natasha flirted in jest with Steve, or how scantily clad she was, or how much she wrapped her arms around Steve, Bucky always, _always_ knew Steve would never love her more than just as a friend. In the same way, Sharon had fallen away also, after she had lied, after she had broken that initial trust. Peggy had been a secret agent, too, but Steve had been on it from the beginning. She was true in a way none of the other women in Steve's life could be.

Even when Peggy's mouth turned down slightly at him, Bucky knew she did not hate him. Her tone held no malice. She was not vindictive. She was not a liar. She was like Steve in so many ways, he wasn't surprised he loved her.

Bucky shook his head. “Well, that's all and good. But ask Tony and Steve and they'll say the same. You should be close to the rest of us, so we can keep an eye on you.” It was a total lie. She had been cleared. She wasn't as new to this world as he and Steve had been. She had Sharon. She didn't need them. But he wanted her close. Wanted her close because if she was near and Steve still loved him, then maybe, maybe he could keep on going, knowing the temptation wasn't strong enough to tear Steve away from him. Then he truly would know that Steve loved him. And if she was near and Steve left him... it was better it happened sooner, and that Steve finally chose to be with whom he truly loves.

Peggy stood for a long time, simply watching him.

Sharon watched their exchange and took a deep breath. “Well, Aunt Peggy wanted a more private –“

“It's alright, Sharon. I think Mr. Barnes is right. I should be close by, should anything happen.”

Bucky gave her a small smile. “You can just call me by my name.”

Peggy's eyes flashed with something living again, and for a moment he forgot about her beauty, about her _threat_ , and thought only of the familiarity of her, of that sassy, intelligent, strong presence back at the SSR QH, where he and Steve and the Howling Commandos would plan their moves.

“Just James, then?”

Bucky grinned. “Sure, though only one person calls me that, and she doesn't like sharing. Just call me Bucky. Everyone else does.”

“You prefer that nickname? You don't find it patronizing?”

Bucky laughed. He stepped closer to her. “It's a little childish. But Steve gave me that nickname. It was the first thing he said to me on this side of the century.” He paused. He felt his whole face go slack. He shouldn't have mentioned Steve.

But Peggy only smiled. “Then I understand why you're attached to it.” Her eyes stared back at him with a tenderness he only saw in Steve. Once again, he was Bucky Barnes, Sargent, soldier, Howling Commando. Not victim, not Winter Soldier, _not monster._

Sharon cleared her throat. “Then, room 202?”

Bucky startled a moment, forgetting that Sharon was even there, and nodded. “That one has a nice view,” he mumbled. He quickly turned and headed back towards his room, ignoring the confused looks the two women gave him.

 

* * *

 

At dinner, all the Avengers gathered to officially meet Peggy Carter and welcome her to the Avengers family. Natasha had stayed away before on account of all of the “love drama,” as she said to Clint, who didn't think it was distasteful to it repeat to Bucky. He only noticed her skulking around corners and above walkways, subtly trying to watch the three of them. Mostly him. He knew she worried. After Steve, she was the best friend he had. Heck, if he was completely honest with himself, there could have been a chance, maybe, in some alternative time, that he'd want to be with her. When Steve wasn't there, she was the one to give comfort. That, and he could shit-talk about Steve in Russian with her, right in front of him.

So when Natasha arrived, and began to fawn over Peggy, stammering her words, asking Peggy to talk about this famous mission or that famous encounter, Bucky was a little irked. He glared at her from across the table, his words screaming _traitor_ at her. She noticed relatively early on and only smiled, like she knew something he didn't.

She sat next to Peggy during the entire dinner, not letting the conversation about Shield and Peggy's role in it drop. Sharon was on Peggy's other side. Clint sat next to Natasha. Tony was next to Sharon. On the other side of the long, rectangular table the other Avengers settled themselves in their “usual” places. Except for Steve. He sat at the farthest corner of the table, away from Bucky and Peggy both, his face turned almost always towards the food, only looking up if he was called by name.

Bucky watched him. He kept checking where Steve's eyes traveled. He noticed each secretive look he took at Peggy. He saw the sweep of his eyes down her blouse. He saw the tender gazes, the small sighs. He'd have his answer soon enough.

When Peggy began to get into a story, her voice rising in excitement, the other Avengers leaning in to listen closely, Bucky had his answer. Steve's look could only be described as adoring. The awe in those sparkling blues was so palatable, Bucky could feel his fondness for her in his own chest. He saw the pink in Steve's cheeks, the cheerful, youthful laugh that followed each of Peggy's punchlines. When was the last time he laughed like that with Bucky? With him it was all pain and suffering. It was trying to circumvent the government and their sanctions on him. It was all about keeping a fragile team together. Bucky was a bullet hole rippling through Steve's life. Peggy was the most soothing of balms.

Bucky pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. Natasha and Steve both looked up but said nothing as he excused himself.

He went to sit on the plush couches in the common area, which was separated by glass walls and a long stretch of empty floor. He loved this part of the tower. The dining room was still visible, but the couches were more secluded, their tall backs hiding him from the view of the diners. The lights were dimmed. The city's nightlife glow lit up the windows. He could still hear Peggy's deep, strong voice, muffled but sure. It drummed against his head like a steady beat. He closed his eyes. He tried to think back to all the times he had seen Steve look at her. He had never loved anyone when they were young. He never tried. He knew about the attempts Natasha had made about getting Steve a date. They never worked because Steve wasn't like that. He couldn't just go on a date. He loved, wholly and completely, or not at all.

There were soft, padding footsteps, thick socks on the polished wood floor.

“You didn't eat much,” Steve said.

Bucky opened his eyes. Steve was thrown in shadows, his light shirt and blonde hair illuminated by the light from the window, but his eyes, now dark and brooding, were shadowed by the contours of his face.

“Wasn't hungry.”

Steve sat down next to him. After a moment, he reached out and pulled Bucky gently towards him. He settled Bucky against him, wrapping him up in the warmth and safety that only he could provide. Bucky let himself press his cheek to Steve's firm chest, thinking _for the last time_.

“You don't have to sleep in your old room.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“Bucky.”

“She's back, Steve,” he said, his teeth grating against each other. He pulled away from Steve. “You have another chance with her.”

“Bucky, don't say stupid shit –“

“It's not stupid,” Bucky argued. “She's beautiful, she's young, she's smart. She's not fucked up like I am. She's better for you than I ever will be.”

“But I love you,” Steve said gently.

Bucky sighed. “And I love you. But you love her, too. So stop trying to avoid her and talk to her. I won't stop being your friend over this. I'll still be here. It'll be like old times,” he said with a thin smile. “Just like I always wanted, right?”

Steve rose, his cheeks red with rage.

“Don't even say anything, Rogers,” Bucky threatened, his voice low, his finger raised at him, stopping the angry outburst that was about to tumble out of Steve. His eyes darted quickly to the dining area, where the others were slowly starting to clean up. “I'll make it easy on you and just break up with you now. Go and get her. If you don't, you'll regret it.”

Steve balled his hands up into tight fists. His jaw was set in pure, blinding rage, but his eyes were softer, shimmering in the dim light with hurt.

Clint called to them from the dining area. Steve loosened his fists, gasped out a quiet cry of surprise and glanced toward him.

“Guys! Tony's got something!”

* * *

 

It turned out that what had caused Peggy's miraculous appearance was a magical item, likely Asgardian. It was still in the crater from which Peggy came out. They were in the lab now, analyzing the data Rhodes had sent them from the military quarantine.

“I do remember touching something similar to that, many years ago. Before Shield, even,” Peggy said as she studied the image Tony blew up for her.

“It must have remembered you somehow. When you died, it brought you back.”

“Is it living, then?”

Tony shrugged.

Steve came closer, his eyes completely fixated on the hologram of the item before him.

“Could it be one of those infinity stones Thor mentioned?”

His steps unconsciously brought him closer to Peggy. Bucky watched as she, always incredibly aware of her surroundings, quickly stepped aside and retreated to the other side of the room. She played it off casually, settling herself on the edge of a desk, as if she was simply resting her feet. But Bucky wasn't fooled. For a second, there was a blush in her cheeks and stray locks of hair from the sudden movement that she smoothed back down with a nervous hand. A little imperfection. Her manicured nails dug through her strands, combing them. She immediately stopped when the attention fell back on her. Bucky wasn't listening anymore. Something about calling Thor. Something about quarantine. Something about Peggy not leaving the tower until they knew the magical item no longer had an effect on her.

Bucky was more interested in the way she looked away anytime Steve glanced her way. Or the way he looked at his shuffling feet anytime she was forced to look in his direction, where Tony and Sharon and the other Avengers stood. Secretly, he rooted for them. That same desire to see Steve happy – even if it was without him – made him wish the two of them would simply forget about him completely and find some corner to make out in.

Instead, they kept avoiding each other, their eyes always guiltily turning to him. And Steve – Steve said nothing, but his guilty looks were always accompanied by hurt, by anger, by resignation.

For once, he couldn't punch his way out. Bucky felt sorry for him.

 

* * *

 

It continued like that for two more days. Peggy spent all her time with either Sharon or Natasha. Steve avoided her. If they did meet, and Bucky was nearby, they made sure to be only polite and move on their way. Meal times became awkward. On the third day, Steve left for a mission; he, Tony, and Rhodes were investigating some strange occurrences near the quarantine.

Bucky made it his own mission to “monitor” Peggy. He argued with himself that she could be in danger, or be dangerous to others, if the magical Asgardian item still had any power over her.

That was how he stumbled upon the gem of a conversation Sharon had with Peggy.

They were in the living room when Peggy asked about Sharon's love life. Sharon was flustered, of course, and let out a whine of “Aunt Peggy!”

“What? Can't I be curious? Oh, come on, there must be someone. You can't be that busy.”

“Aunt Peggy, you can't lecture me on being busy.”

Peggy seemed offended. “I can,” she said in defiance. “I can lecture you on many points. I am much older and more experienced than you. And you're still young and should enjoy yourself.”

Sharon rolled her eyes. They found Bucky in the corner of the living room, hidden relatively well behind a large bookcase, though he could still play it off as him just taking a moment to stop and look at his phone. Sharon probably wasn't fooled. Natasha had confronted him about spying on Peggy already. Chances are, Peggy knew what he was doing, but chose not to mention it, either because she didn't mind, or she was too curious to see what he would do, to see _why_ he was following her around.

“Well, I did get a few dates,” she finally admitted. At that moment, Scott Lang walked by.

He paused, motioned at her. “Yeah, didn't Cap ask you out? Natasha likes to joke about it. Something about first date since 1945?”

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle. Peggy raised her arms in the air.

“Oh, and here I thought he must have been lonely without me! But I see he had no problem making moves on my niece!”

“Aunt Peggy, he didn't even know we were related then. Well... he did when we kissed.”

Peggy's eyes were comically wide. She made a disgusting sound in her throat and leaned back against her chair. Bucky decided it was a relatively safe time to step out and make himself known. To Scott, at least, since neither Peggy nor Sharon were surprised to see him come near.

Peggy was dressed in a blue shirt, short-sleeved and button down, with white trim, and a wide, flowing skirt. She wore stockings and red heels. The clothes were modern, but cut in the old style, as a throw-back to the fifties. Women's fashion had been borrowing much from that time lately. Polka-dots had become fashionable again. Bucky liked it, especially when Natasha wore that sort of fashion, though she could never wear it as authentically as Peggy could. The clothes simply sat on her curves better.

“You know, he kissed Nat, too,” Bucky said with a smile.

Peggy made a strangled noise in her throat and shook her head. “I cannot believe it. Has everyone kissed him?”

Scott chuckled nervously. “I wish.”

“Oh, get out of here!” Sharon cried. “You made this awkward.”

“What's awkward is locking lips with – “

“Go! I'll taser you!” she threatened. Scott chuckled and went on his way. Sharon rubbed past her temple, ruffling her hair, her gaze locked to her bouncing foot. “God, that was so awkward.”

“You think?” Peggy asked. But she was smiling, sitting calmly, elegantly, like the prettiest picture, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh again.

“Has he gotten better? Steve and kissing, I mean,” Peggy asked jokingly, her eyes turning up to look at him. He laughed again and threw himself into a nearby chair.

“Oh, he's gotten good. He has a great teacher, though.” He grinned smugly.

Sharon sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, Aunt Peggy, I'd love to stay and chat more about awkwardly making out with Cap, but I have to go speak with the Secretary of State.”

She rose slowly, stretching her limbs. Peggy smiled and nodded at her. Her eyes landed on Bucky again when she was gone.

“He's an ass,” Bucky said, speaking of Ross. Peggy grinned in amusement.

“That so?”

“He tried to get me executed.”

“Ah.”

They watched each other in comfortable silence. She was smiling. Her legs were crossed, the foot on top bouncing lightly, her red heels shining a little in the afternoon glow. He felt like a mess compared to her. He sat with shaking legs, his hair long and not as neatly brushed as it could have been. His metal hand glimmered in the light, a stark contrast to the softness that was Peggy Carter. She could have been on a dance floor. He belonged in some dark corner, with his ruffled cap, his frumpy sweater that always made him feel better, and so no matter how many holes it had no one dared to throw it out.

Finally, she drew in a breath.

“James...”

He watched her grasp for words. “Not so articulate anymore, huh?”

“Oh, what do you want from me?” she asked in her soft, British accent. “This is difficult for me.”

“You want to talk about Steve,” he said, feeling his fingers tense against the armrests already.

“Who else? He seems depressed.”

“Because you're avoiding him,” he accused.

She shifted in her seat. “I told him I was happy being his friend, and thought I did well by giving him space.”

“So you're hiding from him.”

“I'm trying to keep myself from doing something stupid,” she said with a sad smile. He shook his head.

“That's dumb. Steve and I already did something stupid. You don't even know the half of it.”

Peggy's lips pressed in a thin line. “I heard you've broken up with him.”

Natasha was a traitor. He shouldn't have trusted her. Peggy saw the tension in his face and sat up, leaning forward. Her voice was soft, pleading.

“He loves you. He chose you. He and I... we shared one kiss. Please, don't hurt him like this.”

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

“You're a woman. You're a beautiful woman. You're smart, resilient, and good. I... you don't know. You don't know what I am.”

She frowned. Her eyes raked over him, finally settling on his metal arm. No one had told her what happened. She picked up on this and reached out with her hand, laying it gently on his metal arm.

“Then tell me. And I can promise you, no matter what it is, Steve loves you all the same.”

Bucky felt a shiver go through him. He had never told the whole story, start to finish, to anyone. Everyone already knew. Random strangers on the street knew more than he did when he first broke away from Hydra.

“What's there to tell?” he asked, forcing a grin. “I'm a mess. Not everyone can travel through time in comfort and style. I...” he paused, his gaze moving past her, towards some distant point, where snow and trees and soldiers speaking in Russian melted into the white walls of the large living room.

“I had a rougher ride,” he finished, his throat feeling scratchy. He pulled his hand away from her and leveled an even look at her. “Don't leave him hanging.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are very, very, very welcome.


	3. Miss Atomic Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy takes matters into her own hands, and sends shock-waves doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this song reminds me so much of Bucky and Peggy. Especially since the lyrics are much more depressing. But it was on my playlist and it sorta fit with the chapter.
> 
> But, yeah, the songs are kind of random, but they're there in case anyone was wondering what "mood" I was in while writing.
> 
> Anyway, sorry this is a bit late. I honestly forgot to post it. It's been ready for a couple of days now... Sorry!

 

3\. Miss Atomic Bomb

 

“Racing shadows under moonlight

We're taking chances on a hot night

And for a second there we'd won

Yeah, we were innocent and young.”

(Miss Atomic Bomb – The Killers)

 

Bucky jolted upright. For a moment, his heart panicked, his eyes scanning the dark room. The walls were bare in strips, covered everywhere else in pictures and post-it notes. They were illuminated by the smallest shafts of light that managed to worm their way through the drawn blinds.

When he first came to the Avengers HQ he slept here. There was a lock on the door that could be activated from a computer. The window was reinforced. The walls were thick. It was a cage. He knew no one would lock him in now; it was only a precaution when he first arrived and was still a possible threat. Now he could lock himself in, instead, and feel the safety of its oppressive darkness.

When he had moved into Steve's room, he was surrounded by softness. The walls were white, tastefully decorated with old drawings or photos of Brooklyn. Bucky missed waking up to the sunlight pouring through, illuminating that embarrassing yet oddly soothing painting Steve had done of him a long time ago, when Bucky still didn't believe his worth and Steve didn't know how to make him see it. He had hated it but Steve wouldn't take it down no matter how much Bucky begged.

He glanced over the clock. It was around five-thirty. He wouldn't have seen the sunlight pouring through, anyway. And Steve might have been up already, getting ready for his morning run.

Bucky didn't miss the warmth of Steve's body against him. He didn't miss Steve waking him each time he got ready. He didn't miss the snoring. He didn't. _He didn't._

He missed him so much he could have sworn a black hole had opened up right in the center of his chest, consuming all his breath, all his strength. He crawled out of bed, grabbing a sweatshirt off the floor. He couldn't tell what was clean and what was dirty anymore. His sweat-soaked shirt had gone through its second night in the bed, and would likely go through its third day.

He could barely wrap his head around the last week. His was life practically perfect at the start of it. It was still full of danger and the government kept breathing down his neck. There was Hydra and bullets and aching muscles. There were arguments with Tony and bad memories and night terrors. But there was Steve with him every step. There was the hope of a life together, of a future. It was as perfect as Bucky could get.

Then Peggy showed up. The initial shock tore his life apart, and the shockwaves – Natasha fawning over her, Steve's suffering, her perfect, beautiful full lips telling him to stay with Steve – they tore through him each time he thought of them.

He could no longer stay in the dark and dank cage. He opened his door and headed out.

* * *

 

The living room was dark, the windows allowing only a gray light from the coming dawn to break up the darkness. He saw a head of brown hair, barely reaching over the pillows of the white couch. He walked slowly, carefully, stopping to peek over her silently. But she wasn't asleep. She sat in her nightgown and blue robe, her hair falling around her shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears and old mascara. Her hands shook lightly, holding onto a small book. He leaned over a bit more to see. It was a small photo-album with yellowed photos. Her fingers were resting on a photo of an old man. Her sob snapped him out of his thoughts and he gently put his hand on her shoulder, slowly.

Peggy startled and the photo album fell out of her hands and to the floor. He bent to pick it up but she was quicker, snatching it up and tucking it under her arm. She wiped at her tears.

“James,” she greeted, her voice still shaking. She looked up at him and flashed him a smile. “I didn't see you there.”

“Was that Daniel?”

Peggy looked down at the album. She bit her lip, then set the album on her knees. “Sharon brought over some of my things last night. I...”

“You don't need to explain,” Bucky said with a weary sigh. He shuffled his feet and looked up at the windows. Slowly, the gray light gave way to the smallest hint of yellow, far on the horizon. She sniffled, her hands flying up quickly to silence the sobbing that threatened to start again. He moved slowly to sit next to her on the couch.

“I never saw him. Was he handsome?”

“Oh, very,” Peggy quickly replied. Bucky motioned to the album. She slowly turned it over and opened the first page.

“Whoa, Peg, you were one pretty bride.”

Peggy laughed, a small sniffle coming out along with it. She smiled and traced her fingers down the wedding photo before turning the page. “I almost married once before.”

“Bet that fella feels terrible right about now.”

“Well, he's dead,” Peggy said with a small shrug. “And we were both young. I doubt he loved me the way Daniel did or …”

Bucky bit his lip.

“Why are you up, James?”

He stiffened. He remembered the nightmare, the terror that seized him, the loneliness of finding himself the only one in bed again. His jaw set in hatred. It was her fault. Steve would leave him and he would be alone again, with not a soul to love him and care for him. With not a friend in the world. Steve would leave him the way he abandoned the Avengers. He left his friends for Bucky, and he'd leave Bucky for her. It didn't matter that it was _Bucky_ who broke up with Steve. It didn't matter that Steve swore to the moon that he would stay with Bucky; that he wouldn't break his promise to him. In his heart, Bucky could only blame her.

He stood and turned to go. He knew it wasn't her fault no matter how strongly the hatred burned in him, and he couldn't, he _couldn't_ sit there and watch her cry and feel sorry for her.

“James? Where are you going?” there was still a sniffle in her voice. The sky was yellow, and the brilliance of the rising sun sparkled on her cheeks, on the tear tracks that carried bits of mascara down her face. The look in her eyes was hurt and confused. He didn't understand it. Why didn't she tell him to leave her alone when he intruded on her space? Why did he even remain, when she was the reason he had exiled himself from the comfort of Steve's room? He only shook his head at her and moved as quickly as he could without running to the door. Once he was out, he pressed his back against the wall, his breaths coming in harshly.

He jumped when a hand seized his shoulder. Steve's concerned eyes bore into him. His hair was ruffled. He was still in his sleepwear.

“Are you okay? Buck? I heard you scream.”

Bucky closed his eyes and let his head thud against the wall. “Just a nightmare,” he mumbled through dry lips.

Steve stepped closer and wrapped his arm securely around Bucky's shoulders, pulling him away from the wall.

He couldn't help it. He let his head drop on Steve's shoulder. He couldn't stop the shaking. He remembered Peggy the day they planned his last mission. He remembered the Howling Commandos and the train, and the snow that seeped into his bones. He let out a sob and let Steve hug him close.

“God, why am I like this,” he whined into Steve's shirt.

“You're fine the way you are.”

“Shut up. You shouldn't be doing this.” He pushed Steve back, his hands lingering on Steve's broad shoulders. “You shouldn't always be there for me.”

Steve's eyes watered and he shook his head. “Bucky,” he said, his face breaking into a sad smile, “I'll _always_ be there for you.”

“No, you won't,” Bucky replied, letting go of him. “And I need to be able to deal with it when the time comes.” He nodded once, as if he was talking to himself, as if he was steeling himself for the steps that followed and took him out of Steve's sight and back to the darkness that was his room.

* * *

 

When Steve stepped into the living room, he saw her standing, her hands gently holding her robe closed. Her puffy face quickly lit up in a gentle smile.

“Oh, my darling, I am so sorry that I caused all this.”

Steve took a deep breath. “It wasn't your fault.” He shook his head. “I don't know what to do,” he admitted, his voice small. She stepped towards him and gently reached out to caress his face. He placed his hand over her's, holding it to his cheek.

“All we can do is be true and honest, to ourselves and to those whom we love.”

“But I don't want to lose you,” Steve said quietly.

“You won't lose me,” she said, smiling, one shoulder rising in a quick shrug. “Darling, you were frozen in time and you didn't lose me. Death came for me and you didn't lose me. You love James and he loves you. Don't let something so silly tear you two apart.”

When she said it it seemed so obvious to him. But the moment her hand was gone from his cheek and he watched her retreat to her seat, he was once again being tossed about in the wind, without a foothold to grab onto, without a goal to set him straight.

* * *

 

 

Bucky didn't leave his room the next day. Steve stood by the door and knocked for a solid ten minutes. He tried forcing the door open, but only got a warning that he'd be shot if he opened the door.

He came back towards the end of the day. _Be honest_ he reminded himself. He took a giant breath and knocked once more. He didn't wait for a reply.

“Bucky. I know you're listening. I know you think you can push me away. But you can't. I'd rather be in this uncertain hell and have you both near me and have you hide in your room or have her skulk around corners wiping at her eyes, as long as I know you're both here, and safe, and near to me. You're both important to me.” He stopped and pressed his forehead against the door. “I don't care about love and relationships if it means I lose my two best friends. But we can't keep doing this forever. We need to talk, the three of us. Please. Just open the door.” He tried the doorknob again.

It didn't budge.

Peggy watched from down the hall. Steve didn't notice her until he turned around with the intention of slinking back to his own room to brood. He contemplated going to her. Her gentle eyes watched him with pity and sympathy. But if he did, then Bucky would have exactly what he wanted.

“I love you, too, Peggy. And that won't change. But god, I can't be with you until he opens that door.” He quickly stepped over to his own room and disappeared behind the door.

* * *

 

 

She didn't get shot. The computer program, Friday, was able to open the door for her. Whatever Bucky used to barricade the door didn't stand a chance against Peggy Carter. She was out of breath and a mess by the time the door moved enough for her to squeeze through, but she managed it. She shut the door behind her and stared. It took many blinks for her eyes to get accustomed to the darkness.

“God, James,” she breathed. Once she could distinguish the different grays and blacks of the dark room, she saw the messy blankets piled on the bed, the layers of dirty clothes on the floor, the empty and crushed energy drinks leading a trail to where Bucky sat. He was leaning his back against his closet, his hands wrapped around his arms. A few bags of potato chips, gummy bears, and other assorted candies formed a small mound by his feet.

Peggy squared her shoulders, placed her hands on her hips, and stood tall in front of him.

“James Buchanan Barnes, what in the name of God is your bloody problem?” she asked, her eyes radiating with a fury of a thousand bombs. She was tall and broad before his huddled mass, a beacon that emitted annoyance, anger, and sympathy all at once in the most patronizing look a woman could ever wear. She was judging him, and he had no answer but to stare back. She didn't understand. She expected a fight. She expected an argument. But Bucky was simply staring at her, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth hanging open.

“Have you slept at all?” she asked when he said nothing to her, her eyes following the path of energy drinks. Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head. It lolled to one side, and he toppled over slightly before he steadied himself with his metal arm.

“Why not?” she asked, her combative stance relaxing.

He smiled and shrugged, then gently lowered himself against the wall, resting his cheek against it.

She crouched beside him, her eyes filling with worry. “Should I get Steve? You look ill.”

Bucky shook his head again. She swallowed and glanced at the door.

“Are you sure? You might need a doctor.”

“No,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She watched him as he struggled to push himself back to his original position. She sighed and sat down on the floor in front of him, carefully surveying the area before she let her pants touch the ground.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked, her voice filling with some of the same anger from before. “You break up with Steve and then what, stop sleeping and start behaving like a suicidal mess? All because I've shown up? He loves _you_. He chose _you._ ” There was an accusation in her voice. _He chose you, and you still do this to him._ She couldn't understand what more he wanted out of Steve. Out of the both of them. “Do you need me to leave? Because once Stark clears me I can move in with Sharon,” Peggy said, the realization dawning on her that perhaps Sargent Barnes was truly this petty.

Bucky smiled slowly and shook his head. “You don't know. You don't know anything.”

Peggy watched him for a long moment, her breathing slowing, evening out. There was more to this that she didn't know.

She leaned forward and touched his metal hand. He flinched, but there was nowhere for him to go. The closet behind him rattled, but didn't budge against his weight.

“Tell me,” she said softly.

“You don't understand,” Bucky tried to explain again. “You don't know what happened. You don't know what I am. How could you?” His voice was small. His eyes rolled away from her. “Why would anyone tell you? To make you hate me?”

She shook her head. “If I don't understand, then explain it to me.”

“I can't be with Steve,” Bucky said, pulling away from her. He managed to maneuver to his feet and he stumbled towards his desk.

“James –“  
“ – You don't understand!” He cried, whipping around, his face contorted in rage. Peggy took only a single step back. Then she took two forward.

“Explain it to me,” she said, her words clear and demanding. He shrunk back, looking at her determined eyes.

She thought she could hear his heartbeat race against his rib-cage. Or perhaps it was her own heart. He was watching her, his breathing deep and labored. His mouth opened slightly.

“I fell,” he said.

She took another step forward. “I know. I was there when Steve mourned you.” She reached out and took his metal hand. “Can you feel my hand on yours?”

He nodded and squeezed her fingers lightly. She squeezed back and gently pulled on them, leading him towards the bare mattress on his bed. She grabbed the heap of blankets, spread them out, and pulled him down to sit next to her.

“Now tell me, James,” she pleaded. “Help me understand you.”

He smiled bitterly. “It'll take a long time.”

“However long it takes,” she said, the same determined tone in her voice.

He started with the fall. She told him of the service they had for him. He told her about the cold. She told him about Steve's determination – how he wouldn't stop until all of Hydra was dead or captured.

He told her what he remembered of the beginning. It was the hardest time. He still had hoped Steve would save him. He didn't know Steve was gone. Peggy moved closer to him, holding his metal fingers in her own.

“If I had known, I would have gone after you myself,” she said with sparkling eyes. “I wouldn't have left you alone.”

He told her about the 70 years. He stopped when his thoughts landed on Howard.

“Did you care about him?”

“As much of an ass as he was,” she said, her lips quirking up at the curse, “he was a good friend.”

“Then I'm sorry. You have to know. You have to know to understand why you're better for Steve than I'll ever be.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. Then understanding settled over her face and she wound her fingers with his metal ones. She swallowed thickly, forced a tight smile. “Then tell me.”

Bucky didn't leave out how many times he hit him. He didn't leave out how he wrapped his fingers around the woman's throat. He told her every gruesome detail that Steve knew, so that she would understand. Peggy turned her head, her other hand coming up to grab at her mouth. She sobbed loudly into the flesh of her palm. But she didn't pull away and didn't ask him to stop.

So he continued. He told her about meeting Steve again, about the Sokovian Accords, about Siberia. He told her what happened in Wakanda.

“It was my fault,” she sobbed, her face lined with grief. “I didn't look for you. I thought Hydra was gone. Oh, how could I have been so stupid!” She squeezed his fingers tighter and rubbed her forehead with her fist. “I let the doctor go. I thought he was reformed. And he – he went and he –“ she let out another sob and wrapped both hands around Bucky's metal arm.

He bit at his lower lip, trying to keep himself together.

“I am so sorry, James. I am so incredibly sorry. God, I can't believe – I am so sorry.” She reached out and pulled his head down to her chest, hugging him close. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her close. Her hair smelled like Brooklyn. It smelled like memories and the past, like a life of shipyard work and paperboys.

“You don't hate me? You don't think I'm a monster?” he mumbled into her chest, his eyes wide with confusion.

“If I hated you, I'd have to hate myself, too.”

Sam only tolerated him because Steve loved him. Natasha had wanted Steve to let him go, too. In the whole of the 21st century, Steve was truly the only one who cared for him, who felt sorry for what happened to him and wanted to help him. He had been the only one.

“But you understand now,” Bucky said, “why I can't be with him. Why you're better for him.”

“I understand now. I know now that Steve was right. The fight isn't over. James, I will make this as right as I can. And don't you dare imply you're unworthy,” she scolded, pulling back to hold his face in both of her hands. “It was me. It was Steve. We did this to you. The SSR did this to you.”

“You didn't know,” he argued gently. She pressed him closer, her fingers lacing behind his back, pulling him down to her.

“We left you. Don't you leave us.” Her voice lowered, the deep anger and determination from before filling it with strength. “I will bring Shield back. I will bring Hydra to its knees. I will find everyone who knows your trigger words. I will find the traitors who wore the Shield logo. I will find them and make them pay.”

He smiled against her blouse. “Only promise me this, Peg; that you'll let me help.”

She laughed. “We'll hunt them down together. We'll use every resource at our disposal. We'll make this world a better place. You, I, and Steve.”

Bucky grinned. “Last time Steve and I gave ourselves up to a logo we found out the hard way that it wasn't what we signed up for.”

“I'll make Shield worthy of you again,” she promised.

They both had puffy, red faces by the time the grief settled. They laughed at each other through the tears.

“Tell me, James,” she began once they settled down. She rose to pull back the blinds and let in the evening sunlight. “Of the first time you told Steve you loved him.”

It was like being young and new again, with a radio on in the background blaring music that was new yet had the same familiar ring to it. There was no Hydra, no scarred flesh and nightmares. There were only the light and happy moments that he relayed in perfect detail – or as perfect as he could remember. She helped him clean the floor and fold his clothes as she listened. They laughed loudly over the silly intimate details; like how Steve admitted to Bucky he was still a virgin the first time they got physically close. Peggy was red faced, both from the embarrassing subject matter and from the laughter, and it took the two of them a long time to finally finish righting the room.

When they were done, they lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the radio on the computer play a random list of hits from the last fifty decades.

“You know, I have a crazy idea,” Peggy began.

“Crazier than breaking into my room under threat of violence?” Bucky asked, his brows rising as his eyes landed on her profile.

She grinned. “Believe it or not, Mr. Barnes. I have been often criticized for my crazy ideas.”

“Hm,” Bucky hummed, turning back to the ceiling.

“We're young, aren't we?”

“Well, in your case –“

“Shh, don't answer that.”

“You did ask.”

Peggy laughed. “What I meant to say is, we're young and we can try new things,” she paused, her eyes dancing on the ceiling.

Bucky blinked in confusion. “Well?”

She turned her head towards him and he looked back at her. “Well, here's what I was thinking. About our situation with Steve, I mean...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, what could Peggy possibly mean? *wink wink* *nudge nudge*
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment! Or a Kudos! Or make my day and leave both!


	4. It's Been a Long Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy finally dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for still keeping up with this! There's probably two more chapters to go, so stay tuned! Sorry that I update so slow. Classes and grad-school applications are eating up my fanfiction writing time.
> 
> Please enjoy!

 

4\. It's Been a Long Time

 

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

*

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice,

then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time.”

(It's been a long, long time – written by Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn )

 

“I just don't know what to do,” Steve lamented, cradling the flask of Asgardian wine in his large hands. Sam watched him with a concerned look. The lounge room was empty save for the two of them by the bar, where Sam's abandoned coke and whiskey stood between them, the bubbles from the coke long gone. Steve gestured wildly as he spoke, recounting what happened with Bucky and the door, and how he found Peggy with red eyes in the living room, and how Bucky had broken up with him and wouldn't let Steve talk to him about it at all.

“Man,” Sam said once Steve stopped in favor of taking another swig from the flask. “You've got problems.”

Steve gave him an incredulous look. “No, really?” He sighed loudly.

Sam pushed a bottle of water towards him. “Just take it easy, Cap. It's not the end of the world.”

“It isn't?”

“Listen,” Sam said, leaning on the bar with his hands splayed wide. “He loves you, you love him. She loves you, you love her. It's a tough choice. But they _love_ you. They'll respect whatever you decide.”

“I don't want to decide! Why do I have to decide anything?” he asked, gesturing with the flask before he brought it back to his lips. Sam quickly reached out and placed his palm on the opening, stopping him from taking another swig.

“Hey, you had enough. Come on, man,” he chastised. “Listen, maybe you don't gotta choose anything.”

Steve sighed and placed his head on the bar. “That's what I think. I'd rather be friends with them both. I told them. I told you I told them. I'd rather be friends than lose either one. I can't. Not again.” He placed both hands close to his face, the flask tipping against his temple. He mumbled something whiny under his breath, but it was muffled by the bar. Sam sighed deeply, his face turning up in frustration. He saw Sharon walking down the stairs to the lounge from the above level, her usual standard-issue vest and semi-formal attire quickly informing him that she wasn't staying for long. She didn't seem surprised to find Steve here.

“How's he doing?” she asked once she was at the bar, her gaze moving from Steve, who appeared to be partially passed out on the bar, to Sam, who stood behind it with a tired look.

“How does he look like he's doing?”

“M'fine,” Steve mumbled.

Sharon and Sam exchanged a look.

“And the worst part is,” Steve said with sudden clarity as he sat up, pulling his head back so quickly that he startled both of his friends. “I'll decide to do something, and think this is the perfect plan. I'll decide I won't break my promise to Bucky; that was originally the plan. But then, then I see her.” He let the flask drop, spilling the wine on the bar, and opened his hands in front of him, staring down at them. “And I _see_ her. She's wearing that red dress. We're in France. And it's the past, it's my life. It's the woman, she helped me become who I am, she's an integral part of who I am. She – she was like a beacon of light for me. Lady Liberty, if you will.”

“No, I won't,” Sam said, shaking his head with a frown.

“Point is, I remember. But then, I can't just leave Bucky. He needs me. I see his face, how he looked when I saw him in Romania. How he looked so lost, so uncertain. I gotta be that rock for him, cause if he – Sam, if he breaks and goes back to being,” he made some hand gesture that Sam wasn't sure the meaning of, “then _I_ won't be able to sleep. Cause I love him, and _I_ need him.”

He continued to babble and Sharon and Sam exchanged another long look over his head. When he paused again to drink half the water bottle in one gulp, Sam leaned toward Sharon, covering his mouth with his hand to shield his voice from Steve.

“I had to deal with this all morning,” he whispered harshly.

“Had he been _drinking_ all this time?” Sharon asked in concern. Sam motioned to the empty bar behind him.

“He went through everything before he found Thor's stash.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Steve complained, pointing at them both with an accusing finger, which wavered a little in the air. He was swaying on the small bar stool and Sam gave him an unimpressed look.

“Oh, but you didn't hear me when I said stop freakin' drinking, now did you?”

“I'm Captain America,” Steve said, his voice dropping to a serious growl, “I can drink all I want.”

Sharon rolled her eyes and reached out to grab Steve's hand. “I'll handle this,” she said to Sam before she pulled Steve up to his feet. Sam quickly swiped the flask and what was left of its contents and hid it under the bar, then watched Sharon lead Steve out of the lounge as he finally tasted his flat coke and whiskey.

 

* * *

 

She led him through the white halls at a leisurely pace. He manged to keep up without stumbling too much. She talked about her current assignment and the weather until his feet were more sure and she was sufficiently satisfied that he was no longer feeling the affects of the alien alcohol.

“I'm sorry I've been acting like an ass,” he began, his eyes downcast. “I just don't want to lose them both.”

Sharon smiled. “Careful, or you'll lose them to _each other_.”

Steve tilted his head in confusion, his brows drawing down over his narrowed eyes. “Is that... a modern euphemism, or something?”

Sharon laughed and continued leading him down the hall. The late afternoon sun was pouring in through the large floor to ceiling windows, obscured slightly by the tall buildings around the Avengers HQ. Steve hoped Bucky wasn't still in his room, in that horrible darkness, all alone and suffering.

After a moment, Sharon paused to lean against the window. They were near one of the more secluded lounge rooms, the one Steve and Bucky favored for their movie dates. It had two levels and an open, airy feel to it with the many skylights, windows, and the limited furniture. Sharon paused a few feet away from the door, her overly casual demeanor and refusal to go in and sit down making him wonder what was behind the door.

“You know, Clint and Natasha are having sex.”

Steve didn't know what to do with that information. He stared at Sharon and the slightly amused grin on her face with wide eyes.

“How...”

“She told me and Maria last week when we went out for lunch together.” She shrugged. “Women like to talk shit behind men's backs, and there was quite a bit to talk about. She knew we wouldn't tell.”

“Well, you did,” Steve pointed out, his expression turning disapproving.

“Oh, no, she's fine with _that._ I asked. She just didn't want it to be a big deal. A lot of people don't understand that sort of thing.”

“Wait, does Laura know?”

Sharon's amused grin spread further. “You really don't know?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “They have a casual relationship, it's what I'm trying to say. Clint isn't cheating on Laura. They're _sharing._ It's called 'open relationship' and is, I've heard, catching on with our – I mean mine, not your – generation.”

Steve leaned against the window next to Sharon, trying to understand what she was telling him. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Oh god. _Aunt Nat_. Are you sure – ”

“Laura _knows_ and approves. She and Clint live different lives, far away from each other. They love each other but have needs, too. Companionship, sex,” Sharon listed, her voice matter-of-fact. “Laura sometimes dates men in whatever town she's in. When they're together, like they are right now, they're only with each other. But always, _always_ , they're _honest_ with each other.” She shrugged again. “Relationships aren't like movies, Steve. They're not always meant to last forever or be with only one person. They break badly when people start lying to each other to keep the fairy-tale story they've been sold all their lives.”

Steve nodded his head. Honesty was important. Honesty is what Bucky wouldn't give Steve. He wouldn't tell him how he felt. He wouldn't tell him anything. And Peggy... she was honest, but she wasn't telling the whole truth, either. Maybe not even to herself.

“I love them both. I want to be with the both of them,” Steve finally managed. “But that can't happen.”

Sharon sighed. “You didn't get anything from the Clint and Natasha thing?” She rolled her eyes when Steve looked confused. “It's the twenty first century, Steve. You don't have to follow a script, you know; find a girl, take her out, marry her, have kids. You can do anything now.”

“I,” Steve began, his brows still wrinkled in confusion, “it's different. What Natasha and Clint are doing – I don't know. We're from a different time, the three of us. I just don't understand how it could work.”

Sharon watched him with sympathetic eyes. Then she swatted at his arm and motioned for him to follow. “Maybe you don't have to,” she said, the sigh heavy in her voice. “Cause I know two people who figured this out way before you did.”

 

* * *

 

His ears picked up the sound long before his brain could catch up to the familiar tune. He vaguely remembered trying to catch up on all the hits since 1945. Somehow, anything before the 70's reminded him of Peggy or Bucky or the Howling Commandos. After the seventies, music was new enough that all the songs of pain and loss and love seemed to not apply anymore.

So his heart ached even more when the lyrics finally became distinguishable.

_She wore blue velvet_

_Bluer than velvet were her eyes_

He knew he was truly in too deep when he heard these words and thought of Peggy, as her eyes were neither blue nor did he ever remember seeing her in a blue velvet dress.

Sharon paused in front of the door. She looked at him, smiled, and pushed them open.

“Go on.”

He paused, the music loud in his ears. He stepped forward. He could hear Peggy giggle. Bucky's smooth voice mumbled something muted and she laughed again. The lounge had a top and bottom section and Steve was at the top. He came to the railing and heard the door shut. Below him, he saw Bucky twirling Peggy around. She was wearing a blue dress, cut off at the knees, sleeveless and modern like the sort of dress Natasha might pick out. Her hair was long and loose, not curled as it usually was, but worn wavy. Her shoes, though, were the same sensible yet elegant ones she favored in the 40s. Bucky was dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. His face was shaved and his hair was pulled back into a loose pony tail. He was grinning, and Peggy was smiling right back. Steve swore he could see some of her pink lip stick on the corner of Bucky's mouth.

They must have seen him by now. In fact, he was sure they were laughing about him. They were careful not to look in his direction, however. They had eyes only for each other, and swayed to the Bobby Vinton song with grace. For a moment, Steve felt a pang of jealousy and hurt. But seeing the way their eyes sparkled when they looked at each other quickly chased away those feelings. Their bodies fit well together. He couldn't deny that the sight of them pressed together awakened something within him. But it couldn't work the way it does for Natasha, Clint, and Laura, because they were both _here_. It just couldn't. But seeing them laugh together, he thought that it just might.

He came down the stairs slowly. The song finally ended. A brief pause followed and in the silence, his steps seemed to echo too loudly, and he was self-conscious of his being there. He felt like he was intruding on some private moment. Bucky and Peggy slowly pulled away, their hands still touching. Then Bucky bowed a little and she grinned. They turned their eyes to Steve at the same time.

The music started again, a smooth saxophone first, and it filled the silence with a familiar and gentle melody as he looked from one love of his life to the other.

_"Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me. There's so much I feel that I should say..."_

Steve knew that song well. He had played it on a loop once for an entire day, staring at the files on his desk of his long dead friends. He pointed at the speakers. “That – that song.”

“It's kind of appropriate, don't you think?” Bucky asked. He stepped forward and pecked Steve on the cheek. Steve froze, his mind reeling. This morning, Bucky wouldn't even speak to him through his door. Now he was kissing him? Granted, it was on the cheek, but Steve couldn't help the flutter of happiness deep in his gut. Bucky was grinning wide. Peggy had that sultry look on her face, the same as in that tavern in France, when she wore that red dress. The memory was nothing compared to the person standing in front of him. Her dress was tight on the top, split in the back on the bottom to allow for a greater range of motion. She and Bucky both looked modern and so incredibly alive, here, in the 21st century, and Steve lost his breath just at that thought. _Both of them, here, with me._

Bucky slapped Steve's arm. “This guy here still hasn't learned how to dance, you know.”

“Oh, I'm sure we'll teach him,” Peggy replied.

Steve remained speechless for a moment.

“Your song is gonna be over soon,” Bucky said urgently, motioning to the speakers. “We timed it perfectly and all.” Bucky quickly went to the computer and started it over again.

“I, uh,” Steve laughed, not taking his eyes off of Peggy. “I think Bucky would make a better dance partner than I would any day.”

“Oh,” Peggy breathed, “I know.” She glanced at Bucky for a moment. They shared some private joke, their lips turning up in secretive smiles.

“Wait, was – was Sharon, she – was she in on this?”

Bucky chuckled and turned the volume up. Then he winked at Steve and moved past him and started up the stairs. Steve's eyes followed him, then landed back on Peggy. She was closer. He could feel her breath on his face. He leaned towards her. She placed her hand on his chest, then slowly raised it until it was laying on his shoulder.

“My waist, Steve.”

“Huh?”

“Put your hand on my waist.”

He did so, and they slowly began to move to the music. Peggy laughed when Steve messed up, full-bodied and happy, and before long they were swaying and twirling to the music at an even pace. Song after song played and ended. The playlist started from the top again, back with Blue Velvet. They were gently swaying now, Peggy putting less pressure on her tired feet.

“The heels,” she said with a smile, “they're a blessing and a curse.”

“Well, you look phenomenal in them.”

Her eyes bore into him. He wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss her.

“Our dance,” she said softly, her voice nearly breaking. “We were both late, it seems.”

“But we made it,” he said, smiling softly.

She cleared her throat and pulled away slightly. “I'm bringing Shield back. James will help me. Or attempt to. He told me the situation he's in.”

Steve frowned. “He told you?”

“Everything, Steve. Of his own volition. He wanted me to know, to understand why he acted the way he did.”

Steve didn't know if she realized how big of a step that was for him. Bucky hated speaking about Hydra more than he hated Secretary Ross and Hydra itself combined. He hated being reminded of what he had become, of what was done to him.

Steve leaned his chin on Peggy's head, holding her close, her cheek pressed against his chest. She was so warm in his arms.

“When I,” she began, her voice cracking, “when I poured that vial of your blood in the water, I thought I was saying goodbye forever.”

“Peggy...”

“I thought it was forever. When you came back, and I – I came back like _this_ ,” she pulled away to glance down at herself. He followed her gaze. She truly did look phenomenal. “I wanted nothing more than to be with you. And when I saw you with James, well... What I'm trying to say is that when you found me, weeping over Daniel – that was just a momentary thing.”

“I hurt you,” Steve said. He swallowed thickly, his eyes landing on his still feet.

“Oh, darling.” She put her hand to his cheek. “We both love you. We both want to be with you.”

Steve gently took her wrist and gave it a light squeeze.

“We thought... well, I do not mind if you and James are together. And he wouldn't mind,” Peggy paused and pressed herself closer, “if I kissed you.”

Steve's eyes narrowed. “You two... want to share?” Sharon had been in on it. He only wondered who thought of the idea first.

Peggy laughed. “Trust me, I know it sounds ridiculous. But we talked it over. Steve, darling, we both want to be with you, and we are both mature enough to realize we can't always have everything we want. If we can both have a little bit of you, well, then that's alright with us.” Peggy stopped, waiting for his response.

“So, if I kissed you right now, Bucky wouldn't be upset?”

She laughed. “I can call him in right now. He said he'd even like to watch.”

“Of course he'd say that,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Well, then?” Her voice was small and cracking. Her eyes were wet, her lips soft-looking and painted a delicious shade of rose.

“It feels... wrong,” Steve said, even as he leaned down towards her.

“Does it?” Peggy asked, her breath hot on his lips.

“Dishonest,” he continued, his eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes.

“Is it, when we both agree to it?”

“I don't know,” Steve admitted. He pressed his lips against hers, very lightly at first, just feeling the softness of them, feeling whether it felt right or wrong. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and he couldn't hold back.

_Kiss me once, and Kiss me twice, then Kiss me once again..._

He deepened the kiss, holding the small of her back, bringing her closer to him. He bent her back, one of his hands coming up to cradle her face, his lips chasing hers. She grinned against him, then laughed when she tried to pull back and he followed her.

“I need to breathe, Steve.” She was looking back at him with a giant grin, her lipstick smeared slightly. She rolled her eyes then, a light giggle escaping her. “Either James is great at timing the music, or someone is remotely controlling it. Which, I assume, is something that is possible with modern computers.”

Steve laughed, his head falling to her shoulder. She pressed him closer, one hand at the back of his neck, the other holding his back.

“I waited a long, long time for this, darling.”

“Me too,” Steve breathed into her shoulder, holding her as close as he humanely could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos and a comment if you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a kudos or a comment! They make writers very happy!
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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